Lover
by This Empty Path
Summary: Austria is living alone by now, with the exception of Hungary; but he can't seem to take his mind off of one man. uke!AustriaxAnybody, just add your own goddamn names in. Also, just gonna say, this was originally going to be PruAus, I just didn't want to put in names. So now you decide.


**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T FUCKING OWN HETALIA**

**Anyways, because I'm a slut for angst, I decided to post this. By the way, I also love depressed!Grell and I love suicidal!Romano. I don't know why, but seeing other people want to kill themselves brings a smile to my face. So this one goes out to all the people out there who want to kill themselves, and I'm not going to tell you to stop hurting yourself, because I know how you feel. I'm not going to tell you to stop feeling that way, I've been there too, I'm just getting out of that place, and it seems like every step I take, two more are added on. So please, just get to read this before you kill yourself, and remember that this was for you. Remember that I don't need to give you my pity, because your favorite characters are there too. And remember, when your heart and soul are smashed, ripped up, and marred, it only makes you more special in my eyes, because I will take a keep interest in you, also, make sure you have a sibling or friend to post your suicide on the internet, because I want to read it! Also, if this offended you, well too bad.**

Ghostly pale fingers drifted over piano keys, letting beautiful music flow into the grand piano room. The ravenette pianist let his violet eyes fall shut.

His fingers danced over the keys knowingly, perfectly hitting every key.

And as he played, he let a single tear fall down his cheek.

He remembered the feelings that flowed out of him for his lost lover…

He remembered the day his lover had left.

_"I love you… More than America loves food…" his lover had told him, chuckling in that gentle tone he had only used around him. _

_"And in turn, I love you." He had responded, letting his barriers fall so that the gentler side of him came out._

He had trusted this man.

_His lover held his arms to his body, gently kissing him. _

_"When I come back, we shall be wed. I want you to stay here, plan our wedding. And make sure to take care of yourself." His lover finished the kiss with. _

_"But of course." He had said, making sure to steal a quick, final kiss before his lover left._

That time had been three years ago.

He was sure that was his lover's way of leaving him. But, before he had given up faith, in the few months after his lover had left, he had planned their wedding.

He bought himself a white dress, but made sure it would be interchangeable with a white tuxedo with gold trim, and in turn, he had bought his lover a similar white tuxedo, but with black in place of the gold.

He knew it would complement his lover's eyes and would contrast with his hair, making his lover look all the more lovely, as if he wasn't already.

He found a location that met up to his high expectations and fully intended on renting it.

But he hadn't gotten so much as a letter.

By now, the pianist was openly sobbing, causing him to hit a wrong key. That was impossible…

As his eyes snapped open, he saw tears over the keys of his piano.

He stood, not bothering to push his stool-like seat in as he left the room.

He made his way into his bedroom, opening his closet. He picked up and old jacket of his lover's. And he held the jacket, taking in the warm roughness of the fabric, and the scent of his ex-lover's cologne.

But as he held the fabric, he noticed that there was something making the jacket heavier, tucked away in the pocket.

He took it out, noticing it was really two things. A gun, and a knife.

He opened the pocket knife, looking at the shine in the blade. He remembered the gun, it was one his least favorite of his lover's possessions.

Black before they were lovers, they were horribly at odds.

His lover had made him play Russian roulette with that gun, leading to indefinite hospitalization, then had the audacity to laugh at him. But after they had confessed their love for each other, his lover was gentle, unless asked otherwise.

He remembered the knife as well. His lover had used it to defend him when he was about to be raped by France for sending that "awful dauphine" over to spend all of his money and make his people revolt against his king. And he was forever grateful.

So now, he sat on his bed. With the same knife that had been used to save him, he would take his flesh apart.

He took the brightly shining knife and placed it against his right wrist. He pulled the blade across his flash, leaving a line that strongly contrasted with the pale skin. Scarlet beads and bursts of the color rolled over his arm and peeked out of his skin.

He'd convinced himself enough times that he deserved such treatment. He wasn't good enough, didn't deserve the love he was given when the man he loved gave it to him. That's why his precious lover ran away, why he could never be loved.

Because he was stupid. Or ugly. Or some ridiculous reason he used to make himself think he was undeserving of such a lover. One who doted on him no matter what he did… Which was why that gun would be fired off one last time, to put a bullet in his head. So now, he repeated the previous actions with the knife, but only so far to not get blood on his clothing. After all, the great country would never let himself fall with blood on his clothing; such a thing would only further his horrid, ugly wretchedness.

He hated what that man did to him; what he still does to him. Even now, despite the cruel words he'd spoken to himself and that man when he was around, he depended on the man. And in accordance to that, he couldn't go on any longer. The only person who came around anymore was that blond man who looked so like him with his same soft hair and hardened eyes, and maybe he would see his maid.

But by now, he had long forgotten about them; putting the pocket knife down. Frowning, he looked at the gun.

_I guess I've always been under an unlucky star…_

He stuck the gun to his temple, prepared to flex that final finger and end it all right there.

_"I love you so much… I'll never hurt you." his lover had said._

_"Then hold me close and tell me that I'm yours. That you'll never poison such an innocent love with sorrow, don't taint my heart with the tearing hand of hatred, for I promise, here and now, that I will never do such to yours." he had said, a gentle kiss placed on his head. _

He prepared himself mentally to pull the trigger, letting a final whimper seep from his vocal cords. The noise reverberated within him, shaking his body.

_"This is it; a life to many others better." He mused to himself._

He put the slightest amount of resistance against the trigger.

But at that moment, the door burst open, revealing his lover, right in the nick of time. Yes, just in time to see his lover put a bullet through his head.


End file.
